So, at last, when I could hold out no longer, I resolved to lay the
case before my uncle, as prudently and as cautiously as possible,
just under the form of an almost impossible hypothesis.

I went to him. I communicated my fears to him, and drew back a step
to give him room for the explosion which I knew must follow. But I
was mistaken.

"I was thinking of that," he replied with great simplicity.

What could those words mean? - Was he actually going to listen to
reason? Was he contemplating the abandonment of his plans? This was
too good to be true.

After a few moments' silence, during which I dared not question him,
he resumed:

"I was thinking of that. Ever since we arrived at Stapi I have been
occupied with the important question you have just opened, for we
must not be guilty of imprudence."

"No, indeed!" I replied with forcible emphasis.

"For six hundred years Snæfell has been dumb; but he may speak again.
Now, eruptions are always preceded by certain well-known phenomena. I
have therefore examined the natives, I have studied external
appearances, and I can assure you, Axel, that there will be no
eruption."

At this positive affirmation I stood amazed and speechless.

"You don't doubt my word?" said my uncle. "Well, follow me."

I obeyed like an automaton. Coming out from the priest's house, the
Professor took a straight road, which, through an opening in the
basaltic wall, led away from the sea. We were soon in the open
country, if one may give that name to a vast extent of mounds of
volcanic products. This tract seemed crushed under a rain of enormous
ejected rocks of trap, basalt, granite, and all kinds of igneous
rocks.

Here and there I could see puffs and jets of steam curling up into
the air, called in Icelandic 'reykir,' issuing from thermal springs,
and indicating by their motion the volcanic energy underneath. This
seemed to justify my fears: But I fell from the height of my new-born
hopes when my uncle said:

"You see all these volumes of steam, Axel; well, they demonstrate
that we have nothing to fear from the fury of a volcanic eruption."

"Am I to believe that?" I cried.

"Understand this clearly," added the Professor. "At the approach of
an eruption these jets would redouble their activity, but disappear
altogether during the period of the eruption. For the elastic fluids,
being no longer under pressure, go off by way of the crater instead
of escaping by their usual passages through the fissures in the soil.
Therefore, if these vapours remain in their usual condition, if they
display no augmentation of force, and if you add to this the
observation that the wind and rain are not ceasing and being replaced
by a still and heavy atmosphere, then you may affirm that no eruption
is preparing."

"But -"

'No more; that is sufficient. When science has uttered her voice, let
babblers hold their peace.'

I returned to the parsonage, very crestfallen. My uncle had beaten me
with the weapons of science. Still I had one hope left, and this was,
that when we had reached the bottom of the crater it would be
impossible, for want of a passage, to go deeper, in spite of all the
Saknussemm's in Iceland.

I spent that whole night in one constant nightmare; in the heart of a
volcano, and from the deepest depths of the earth I saw myself tossed
up amongst the interplanetary spaces under the form of an eruptive
rock.

The next day, June 23, Hans was awaiting us with his companions
carrying provisions, tools, and instruments; two iron pointed sticks,
two rifles, and two shot belts were for my uncle and myself. Hans, as
a cautious man, had added to our luggage a leathern bottle full of
water, which, with that in our flasks, would ensure us a supply of
water for eight days.

It was nine in the morning. The priest and his tall Megæra were
awaiting us at the door. We supposed they were standing there to bid
us a kind farewell. But the farewell was put in the unexpected form
of a heavy bill, in which everything was charged, even to the very
air we breathed in the pastoral house, infected as it was.